


Fic Repository

by beambayonet



Category: Zeta Gundam
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Emetophilia, M/M, Stuffing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-16
Updated: 2016-12-05
Packaged: 2018-08-15 09:39:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8051383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beambayonet/pseuds/beambayonet
Summary: I'm putting all my stuffing/vom married AU charmuro fic here instead of pastebin from now on. Hope y'all like waffle house.





	1. Hot Pockets

**Author's Note:**

> Please note that this is kink fic for stuffing and emetophilia, and if you're not here for that, y'know.

Amuro had a workshop.

When he and Char moved in together, they'd agreed to at least work in separate spaces, for the sake of concentration. The place they'd bought was big enough to warrant it, and neither had a huge want to share toolkits, even if they were sharing beds. So together, they built their two separate workshops. Char had one, outfitted neatly and with a maintained sense of organization, and Amuro had one.

Amuro's workspace quickly spiralled into a state of disarray (though every time Char commented, he'd insisted that he "knew where everything was"). He'd filled it with projects, his growing collection of electronics diagnostic tools, and recently a small fridge with a mini freezer. He spent good portions of his spare time in there -- his concept of chilling out was throwing himself into circuit diagrams and schematics, and going all-out on a weekend project. Or several weekends, depending.

This weekend, in his workshop, Amuro was having a problem. A portion of the project he was working on - some dumb motion detection configuration that would send the date and tme from itself to his computer should SOMEONE set foot in his workshop and try to organize it again (but not really) - it wasn't pushing current. It wasn't doing anything. He'd checked the wiring, he'd checked the solder job - everything should have been conducting just fine, so where had he messed up? It was probably somewhere in the design itself that he'd bungled, or maybe one of the things he'd bought for it and installed was defective... he didn't know, and it was driving him a little nuts. His stomach was grumbling, but he wasn't paying attention - he had to solve this, and he had to maybe test it out to see if SOMETHING worked annd....

No current, still.

He sighed, dropped the prongs of the multimeter, and kicked himself back in the office chair. He wasn't going to make any headway on this while he was so hungry. He made for his fridge and grabbed a couple ham and cheese hot pockets. He was pretty grateful that Char'd insisted on giving him a microwave for the workshop, as it meant he didn't have to march upstairs to the kitchen to deal with a 4 minute wait for hot pockets, then come back down.

He took the hot pockets to the microwave, and as he set them up he noticed they weren't so... frozen. Maybe half frozen, but mostly flaccid, which, well, the freezer did its best, and hell -- the guys who make these have to plan for that, right? It was probably fine. He put them in to cook, and he ran a hand through his hair, trying to think his way through his current project's issues.

Once they'd finished, he barely noticed actually eating them. It was done, then they were gone, and he wasn't so hungry. (Well, a little hungry, so he grabbed a thing of leftover stroganoff from the fridge and had that cold, which filled him up the rest of the way.)

After this, he went back to the bench to tackle it again.

-

It was the evening. Char would be asleep by now, and reasonably, so should Amuro, but he was in the zone.

Amuro'd mostly reworked the wiring so that it would function. It wasn't as elegant or nice as he'd been hoping, but -- the thing worked, as well as it could at this stage, and that's all he was hoping for. He figured he could keep going for the night, though he felt a little.. unsettled. Like something was off, as though he'd messed something up horrendously in the process of fixing the problem. He felt gut-bothered, and he checked and re-checked his wiring, the current, the voltage, everything - it all checked out for now.

Hm.

He turned the radio portion in his hands. It was late, though, so he figured-- just for now, he'd head upstairs and give it a rest, at least for a little while. He set his stuff down and stood up to leave, and-- the feeling doubled, that feeling of unease, right in the pit of his gut. He figured water'd help, and he grabbed the glass off his desk, but after the initial sip it seemed to make it worse, and-- God, Amuro really hoped he wasn't ill or something, but the more he thought about it (and he was trying really hard not to think about it), he felt more and more nauseous. He swallowed hard, and willed himself to climb the stairs and at least lie down a bit.

With each step, he felt his stomach lurch a little, and man -- if he was sick, it was really hitting him fast, but shit shit here's hoping he wasn't sick, right? He didn't even know what it could be that would make him feel this way, so maybe he just-- maybe he just huffed solder fumes or something, and this feeling would be gone in the morning. Maybe.

He finished the first flight of stairs up to the main floor, and he grabbed himself a fresh glass of water and sucked it down in an attempt to quell the growing sense of discomfort in his stomach. It didn't help much then, either. In fact, he felt a little worse. He was starting to get a little scared, truth be told -- he really didn't want to end his Saturday in the bathroom.

...Though, now that he'd thought of it... He tried not to, but now that he thought of it, he felt a thousand times more ill. He placed the glass in the sink and made his way up the stairs, feeling increasingly dizzy and close to letting lose and, man, he was really not looking forward to it (and shit, he was starting to freak out a little, he was REALLY not looking forward to this). He grasped the stair rails to steady himself as he climbed, and tried to avoid moving in a way that would push him over the edge. He felt way too full for however many hours it was later.

He made it to the top, but he was starting to panic -- it was happening, he knew it was going to happen and he felt it in his gut and throat and just... He didn't want to be in this position at all. He hadn't even thrown up yet, but he was already miserable. He slowly made his way through the hallway to the bathroom, hoping Char wouldn't wake up while he was in there.

He walked in, got on his knees, and lifted the seat. Even just being in this position, he could feel the saliva fill in his mouth, and spat it out when it got too much. His stomach gave an uncomfortable lurch.

"Ugh..."

He folded his arms over the rim and bowed his head on them for a minute, taking in slow, shaky breaths as he tried to calm himself down. He was gripping his own arms tight as he -- 'oh god no', he thought, 'it's coming', and next thing he knew he was up, gripping the seat, drool dripping from his mouth as he retched painfully-- once, twice, and on the third he felt the water he'd just drank leave him and splash into the toilet. He tried to catch his breath for a moment, but just the sight of his sick with bits of dinner had sent him over the edge once more, this time with force, this time thick enough he had to cough it out of his throat. He felt tears well up in his eyes. This was... fucking terrible. He felt another retch, but only came up with a mouthful of what he'd eaten.

"Amuro?"

He jumped a little - he wasn't expecting company, though it'd figure he'd wake up Char in the process.

"H-hey," he groaned, secretly dreading that he'd get a lecture or something.

"Are you-" Char asked, kneeling next to amuro and placing a hand on his back. "Are you alright?"

Amuro began to answer, but instead felt another gag coming, which very quickly led to another wave of vomit. He spat and caught his breath as Char stroked his back.

"Guess that answers my question, hah." Char said.

Amuro turned his head to get a good look at him, trying not to cry (but crying a little bit) -- Char looked way tired, and Amuro felt like shit for being the one to get him out of bed.

"Sorry I woke you up," he croaked.

"Don't sweat it," he replied. "Jeeze, you look terrible.. Do you want some water, or..?"

"Can you-" Amuro started, taking a moment to breathe a little before the fear of puking again subsided. "Can you just stay with me a little?"

Char smiled kindly and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, readying himself for a long night for the both of them.

"Sure thing."


	2. Waffle House

It was late.

They were headed home from a long trip up North, and at around 2am both Char and Amuro realised that no matter who drove the car, they were going to have a hard time keeping their eyes open. About an hour north of home, Amuro'd pulled off at an exit and navigated to a nearby Waffle House, just about the only sitdown place open within a 20 mile radius. They found themselves sat, in the hazy late night/early morning brainfog, with menus in front of them.

"Maybe," Char began, tired grin on his face. "Maybe you should get a couple of those pecan waffles." He winked for good measure. "Y'know, more than one."

"Jesus," replied Amuro, too tired to not fight back. "Not right now, dude."

Char, desperately trying to find humor or something at this 2am run to the Waffle House, felt his heart sank. "Come on. I was kidding."

Amuro sighed. "Not the time. Maybe later."

Char, sighing deeply, flicked his eyes from Amuro's to the menu. Money wasn't an issue here at the Waffle House, it seemed, so he could have his fill off whatever he wanted, and to be honest he was pretty keen on those pecan waffles, now that it was mentioned. Though, what would be better than that would be to watch Amuro eat it... Either way, someone was going to chow the fuck down on some late night waffles.

"Hey," Char started. "How bout we both get two or three?"

Amuro frowned. "Have you seen the size of these? Why three?"

"Y'know, two each for the road, right?"

"God, first of all they'll get soggy and gross, and secondly, I'd love to see you actually eat like two of these hefty guys," Amuro laughed.

Char, in response, gave a wry smile. "Would you now?"

"Hah, yeah, that'd be the day."

"You're on."

Amuro blinked. "For real?"

As the waiter approached them, Char gave Amuro a most gravely earnest look. "Absolutely."

\---

The waiter had come and gone, and the food had arrived. Amuro had ordered just the waffle, but Char went full hog. Now that it was here, Char wasn't feeling so hungry after all, but his pride wouldn't let him sip coffee for an hour and box the rest up to go, no sir. He was issued a challenge, an indirect challenge sure but a challenge nonetheless, and as far as he saw it, he had a moral obligation to finish all three of the pecan waffles. He doused the first with syrup and started in.

As he took the first bite, he realised quickly it would be a struggle, maybe an uphill struggle.

As he took the fourth, feeling how it sank in his stomach like a rock, he felt a creeping sense of regret. He had to muscle through, though, and hell - this wasn't anything compared to his hardships before. It was just food, just eating, an act that should be easy and natural. He pushed on.

By the time he was done with the first, he was already feeling full. His stomach was taught with straight carbs and coffee. He wasn't so sure he could do this anymore. He put his fork down for a bit and decided to wait it out a little. He had to prove himself.

"Giving up already?" Amuro laughed, leisurely having bites of his single waffle.

Hearing this, Char went right back in.

\---

His momentum didnt last as long as he'd hoped, and he found himself slowing down again about halfway through the second. The endless coffee.... really wasn't helping, and his stomach, he felt, was so packed that maybe nothing else would fit in. He had to keep going, though. Nearing the end of the second waffle, Amuro's bemused looks only served to motivate him further, although he felt how his shirt pressed against his stomach, and that didn't feel good, and how every sip of coffee felt like it was going to come right back up if he wasn't careful, and that didn't feel good either. He let slip a quiet groan, which Amuro caught in the almost empty restaurant.

"Hey, look, you really don't have to finish that," Amuro said, having long since finished his meal. He pressed a hand on Char's back and gave a light rub. "Let's pack it up and head back out," he said.

Char had other plans, and those plans were that next bite of----

As the fork reached his mouth, he felt his stomach contract and a sense of great nausea, and clearly that bite wasn't going to happen. He set his fork down once again and leaned over the table, letting out yet another groan as he did.

"I got this," he said between laboured breaths.

"I don't think you do."

"No, I--"

"Come on, Char, could you give it a rest?"

Char felt his gut lurch, felt the sheer mass of food shift within him, uncomfortably close to escaping. He felt drool pooling in his mouth.

"I think I'm gonna puke."

"Oh jeeze," Amuro said, jumping to his feet to help Char to the bathroom. "Let's get you outta here, then."

He lay his hand on Char's back once again, and walked him to the single-stall men's room at the Waffle House.

\---

Once the door was shut, Char sank to his knees in front of the toilet, breathing heavily. Amuro gently rubbed circles in Char's back with one hand, brushed back his hair with another.

"You coulda just had the one and left it at that, y'know," Amuro said, but Char wasn't listening. Char was a little preoccupied with the feeling in his gut like he was going to let loose at any moment, and at that thought he felt a gag, then a thick, syrupy wave of mess came forth and into the nast toilet. He spat out the bits of pecan and whatever remained in his mouth.

"Just let it out, man," Amuro murmured.

Char wasn't one to fight this, but he appreciated the words of comfort nonetheless.

And lo, he felt another gush of vomit escape him.

"D'you suppose," he started, pausing to let out a burp. "D'you suppose that kid at the counter is gonna have to clean this?"

"Char, they've probably cleaned much worse. It's Waffle House."

"Hah."

Char braced himself for another wave, feeling his gut churn and that sense in his throat. He tried to get in as much breathing as he could, and he stopped just in time for his stomach to contract and let forth another terrible wave of former waffle.

All things considered, not a bad puke. Nice consistency, he thought. Thick and goopy. He still felt like shit, though.

"D'you think that's it?" Amuro asked. Ah, they did have to get back on the road, didn't they...

"Don't think so," replied Char with a small smile, which quickly turned into a grimace as he gagged out a thick chunk of half digested food. That was probably it for the night, he thought, and he reached up to flush.

"Ok, I think I'm done."

Amuro continued coaxing circles on his back, freeing his other hand from holding back Char's hair. He ripped off a few sheets of toilet paper with his free hand and dabbed at Char's cheeks.

"Oh come on," Char started, grabbing the loo roll for himself. "I can clean myself up just fine, hah."

"Ready to get back on the road?"

"Long as I'm not driving."


	3. Milk Zone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They go for the classic milk challenge. Amuro discovers things about himself.

"Did you start recording?"

"Yeah, let me make sure though."

Amuro stepped back from the camera set up to give the red light a gander - it was definitely recording.

"We're good."

Char, placing down the two buckets he'd set out for them and the two gallons of milk (one each), and he sat on one of the chairs.

"Hey youtubers," he started.

"God, don't do this," mumbled Amuro under his breath as he flopped back into the other chair.

Char gestured towards Amuro next to him. "My gracious husband and I are here to do the milk challenge."

Amuro shyly waved his hand with an awkwad smile and settled further into his chair. Wow, this was embarrassing. He was not one for the camera.

"Who'd dyou think is gonna take this one, Amuro?"

"Um," he answered. "We'll see."

"Hah. You ready?" Char asked Amuro-- who replied with a reluctant "yeah, I guess".

"Cheers, big guy."

They tore off the lids, knocked the jugs together, and started in on the chug.

\--

Char, to Amuro's surprise, was the first to take a break.

"Man, shit's cold," he started.

Amuro had been intermittently chugging and taking sips, and at this point was about a quarter of the way thru his. He figured this was Char's way of taking his mind off whatever the hell was going on with his stomach, which-- well, Amuro was starting to feel uncomfortable, but not enough to be concerned. He probably wouldn't finish his, but he'd be sure to stop before the puking point, at least. He held a hand to his soft stomach and let out a sigh.

"Think you can keep up?" asked Amuro, to which Char responded nigh immediately with another full-on chugging sesh. Amuro laughed, and he responded in kind.

\--

Halfway through.

Or at least, Amuro was, and though he felt as though he couldn't go any further just from sheer mass of what he'd drank so far, he looked to Char besides him, who was barely a third in and already looking green.

"Ready to call it quits if you are," Amuro offered, but Char wasn't responding. He was breathing heavily, and Amuro knew-- yeah, it was about that time. He reached for a bucket and placed it in Char's hands, and he looked upon Char, taking in shaky breaths and drooling a little, and found it.... kind of really attractive.

But, yknow, there were more pressing matters at hand (and a camera on them both). Amuro placed a hand on Char's back and started rubbing it gently, and he felt as Char retched and let forth a projectile gush of milk and other stomach contents. Probably shouldn't have eaten beforehand, he thought, but he'd save the gloating for later. He himself was feeling his stomach start to lurch, and Char marathon puking next to him was not helping whatsoever. It was, however, really funny, and ridiculously attractive, and he couldnt help but giggle about the whole sitch.

Char let out a light laugh, drool and vom spilling into the bucket in front of him. "G.. Guess you take this one, Amuro."

Amuro was chuffed to hear that, until the smell hit him and his already taut stomach gave a light push, sending him over the edge. He mumbled a quick "move over" and spilled everything he'd drank into Char's bucket.

"Hah, nice," Char said, before he too was hit by another wave of nausea. Amuro was in the way, still retching painfully into the bucket in his hands, so Char felt the panic start to hit him. He was gonna blow again soon and he had to find a spot to-- well, the grass by his feet would do. It splattered onto his legs and that... was pretty gross, not gonna lie.

Amuro, panting for breath, looked up to Char. "C-can we cut this one off now?" he asked, eyes watering.

Char handed him the now-heavier vom bucket, and gave a light shoulder pat. "Sure thing."

"So there you have it, folks-" Char addressed to the camera. "Amuro took it like a champ-"

"Fuckin stop!"

"Haha, ok."


End file.
